


However Far Away

by The Librarina (tears_of_nienna)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Tumblr: imagineyourotp, overuse of counterfactual conditionals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 20:32:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tears_of_nienna/pseuds/The%20Librarina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of emails exchanged while Enjolras is in California and Grantaire is in Paris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	However Far Away

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt from [imagineyourotp](imagineyourotp.tumblr.com) on Tumblr:
> 
> Imagine your OTP exchanging dirty emails late at night while they are away on business.

\---

03:05 GMT

To: E (enjolras@abaisse.com)

Hey, babe. What are you wearing?

\---

03:06 GMT

To: R (just_r@abaisse.com)

I don’t have time for this; I’m working on the presentation right now. And it’s 5am in Paris, why aren’t you asleep?

\---

03:08 GMT

To: E (enjolras@abaisse.com)

I set an alarm because I figured you’d still be awake. You said I wasn’t allowed to call because of the international rates, so I’m emailing you instead.

And you didn’t answer my question. California’s warm, right? I’m just going to assume that you’re naked.

\---

03:09 GMT

To: R (just_r@abaisse.com)

Actually San Francisco in April is sort of cool and clammy.

\---

03:10 GMT

To: E (enjolras@abaisse.com)

You mean exactly like the wet blanket you’re throwing over my plans?

\---

03:14 GMT

To: E (enjolras@abaisse.com)

Enjolras?

\---

03:15 GMT

To: E (enjolras@abaisse.com)

Did you log my email address as spam again?

\---

03:16 GMT

To: E (enjolras@abaisse.com)

That’s not nice. What if there was an emergency?

\---

03:17 GMT

To: E (enjolras@abaisse.com)

Actually, there is kind of an emergency right now.

\---

03:22 GMT

To: E (enjolras@abaisse.com)

You have to actually _respond_ so that I can say “in my pants.” You’re really bad at this.

\---

03:25 GMT

To: E (enjolras@abaisse.com)

Okay, fine. Go ahead and do your work. I’ll just have to amuse myself over here, all alone, six thousand miles away from you…

\---

03:40 GMT

To: E (enjolras@abaisse.com)

I’d kiss you, if you were here. I’d bite down on your bottom lip the way you like, the way that always makes you moan.

I’d unbutton your shirt, because you always insist on wearing stupid shirts with stupid buttons and you won’t let me tear them off of you anymore because you always sew the buttons back on crooked. So I’d be really nice about your shirt. (Is it the red one? Because I kind of like the red one.)

I’d be less nice with your jeans. I’d unbutton them and tug them off of you, leave them inside-out in a heap beside the bed. You’d get your fingers all tangled in my hair and try to pull me back up, but I’d stay down there, and you’d know, you’d _know_ what I was going to do next.

But I’d take my time. I’d look up at you and lick my lips, and watch the way that you turn pink all the way down your throat even though you’re so hard you can’t even think straight. Maybe I’d play with you for a while, stroking and licking, just teasing you.

By the time I put my lips around the head of your cock, you’d be writhing. I’d have to hold your hips down on the bed, and you’d beg me to leave bruises, so I’d have to oblige. I mean. Who am I to gainsay my dear leader?

Not that I would really be able to say anything, would I? Not while I’m working you all the way in, relaxing my throat to take you as deep as you can go, until my lips are wrapped around the base of your cock and I can feel you halfway down my throat.

You’d be on the edge by then, your fingers clutching at my hair, at my shoulder, at anything you can reach. You’d be tossing those beautiful curls of yours on the pillow, and when I press my tongue against the underside of your cock you’d let out a cry that could be heard in the next room, in the next _state_ , and you’d come for me.

And when you were done, I’d kiss the bruises that I’d left on your hips and I’d curl up in your arms and we’d fall asleep like that--just like that. Together.

\---

03:50 GMT

To: R (just_r@abaisse.com)

Answer. Your goddamn. Phone.

\---

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my [Tumblr](thelibrarina.tumblr.com).


End file.
